


When salted tears won't dry I'll wipe my shirtsleeves under your eyes

by kittenmichael



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, harry and niall aren't /that/ important, i just wanted more fluffy kitten michael okay, this is so self-indulgent it actually hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:28:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2303195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmichael/pseuds/kittenmichael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a fond smile lighting up his features, Luke gently poked Michael in an attempt to wake him up. The boy let out a grumble as soft as his skin and the mess on his head he called hair.</p><p>“Sleepy kitten is sleepy.”</p><p>or, Michael doesn't want to cuddle and no one knows why</p>
            </blockquote>





	When salted tears won't dry I'll wipe my shirtsleeves under your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> it's been months since i last posted something and i'm sorry i was having a writer's insecurity crisis because there are so many good writers on this website and fuck that's no excuse
> 
> basically this has been saved on my laptop for too long
> 
> it's time for you all to find out how real my kitten michael obsession is

There was a stain on the pillow. Its vile brown colour contrasted with the milky white cotton surrounding it, completely disgracing the cushion. And this was Luke’s _favourite_ pillow.

 

Luke, however, couldn’t care less. His eyes didn’t focus on the stain any longer than it took to spot the sweater-clad arm next to it. Within seconds, his most beloved little creature caught his attention with his silent breaths and the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. It was obvious that he was asleep, a state in which he’d been when Luke first found him and one he was in most of the time. With a blanket draped on his shoulders and the most adorable sweater paws the younger boy had ever seen, he sucked all the air out of Luke’s lungs, leaving no more for a sigh at the stain or the collection of half-empty mugs on the bedside table. His face was buried in the pillow so Luke couldn’t see anything but fluffy ashen strands of hair and a matching pair of ears hidden between them that fluttered every once in a while.

 

With a fond smile lighting up his features, Luke gently poked Michael in an attempt to wake him up. The boy let out a grumble as soft as his skin and the mess on his head he called hair.

 

“Sleepy kitten is sleepy.”

 

Luke chuckled, feeling like Michael’s voice would make him disintegrate on the spot. When it was laced with sleep it was even deeper and god knows Luke was a sucker for that. He was a sucker for everything Michael did really. So he leaned down and kissed the boy’s temple, earning himself a muffled pur.

 

“Alright, babe, you sleep some more. I’ll wake you up for dinner, okay?”

 

Michael shook his head, his ears laying flat against his skin.

 

“No dinner.”

 

“Is something wrong, sweetheart? Are you feeling sick?”

 

He rarely missed dinner, so Michael’s protest worried Luke. But the boy didn’t respond, signifying their conversation was over. Michael was as stubborn as he was cute and _god_ , was that kitten cute.

 

Luke stroked his hair once more before getting up from the bed and heading towards the kitchen. Dinner without Michael would be cold and boring, but he knew that all attempts to force him would fail.

 

“Where’s the fluff ball?”

 

Calum questioned when Luke entered by himself, slightly disappointed that Michael wasn’t there. After a long day of university, he was craving some cuddles and nothing felt better than snaking his arms around the waist of someone who purred if you found their sweet spot.

 

“In my room, very much asleep and not hungry apparently.”

 

“Not hungry? He’s not sick, right?”

 

Although Luke had mostly claimed Michael as his, all three boys cared about the kitten too much for their own good. Calum loved to lend him his sweaters so he would smell like him when they cuddled, a warm mess that waited all day for him to get home.

 

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t say.”

 

Luke replied with a shrug, already used to their kitten’s behaviour. His stubbornness barely fazed him anymore. Seeing as Calum wasn’t exactly new to it either, he just continued chopping vegetables.

 

Michael would come out when he wanted to.

 

*

 

Except he didn’t.

 

When Ashton came home from work, the rain had drenched his clothes, cutting through his thin jacket with a stinging sharpness that resembled that of a knife. His curls were now long strands of wet hair that clung to his face like he craved for a certain kitten to cling to his frame. But Michael was not on the couch and he wasn’t in the kitchen. Michael is asleep, Luke explained to  him, and Ashton pouted so hard he feared his bottom lip would fall off. Despite their usual _let the kitten sleep in peace_  rule, Ashton strutted to Luke’s room.

 

Ashton fed him and gave him a warm bed to sleep in, the least he deserved was a cuddle, the boy convinced himself.

 

Luke and Calum didn’t try to stop him, in all honesty, they missed Michael’s presence and maybe if Ashton woke him up he’d join them on the couch.

 

Ashton gently knocked on the door of Luke’s bedroom. Regardless of his previous statement, he did genuinely care about Michael and didn’t want to upset him.

 

He found the boy sprawled on the bed in the way Luke had left him a few hours ago. His breathing hadn’t evened out yet, indicating he was awake, but he didn’t react when he heard Ashton come in.

 

“Mikey? Will you cuddle with me?”

 

His eyes drifted towards the blanket that covered Michael yearningly. If he focused hard enough, he could feel its soft fabric seep warmth into his bones while Michael scared the cold away. But the response he received made him feel colder than the rain had.

 

“No,” Michael huffed without so much as lifting his head off of the pillow to face his friend. He only tightened the grip his arms had on the pillow, a gesture that was usually reserved for their waist, not inanimate objects. Ashton couldn’t help but feel a little offended.

 

“Why not? I’m cold.”

 

He took a seat on the bed, causing it to dip down. Michael grumbled, clearly annoyed by it. In the hopes of cheering him up, Ashton moved his slender fingers to the ashen ears that were currently hidden behind his fluffy hair. He scratched it like he knew Michael loved, but this time, the boy hissed and pulled away.

 

“Please go away,” he growled. Ashton felt both anger and worry boil in the pit of his stomach.

 

“What’s wrong, Michael? You’re usually never like this.”

 

“Leave.”

 

“C’mon, man, you’re my little monster. You can tell me what’s wrong.”

 

Michael shot up halfway through Ashton’s attempts to coax him into opening up, throwing the hood of his sweater up so not even his hair could be seen and hurriedly scrambled off of the bed.

 

“Michael, stop.”

 

Ashton hissed, reaching out for him. Michael was too fast though. He slipped through his fingers and scurried out of the room. The warmed up fabric brushed against his skin, giving him a painful idea of what he was missing. Ashton scolded himself, he knew forcing cats was a bad idea, but he had done it with the best intentions.

 

That night, each one of the boys lied cold and lonely wrapped in their duvets, who felt too big and disappointingly rough all of a sudden. No matter how many times they blinked their sleepy eyes at the doorframe, it remained empty with no sign of Michael. The kitten had disappeared somewhere in the flat, a sign that indicated he wanted to be left alone. Luke smacked the back of Ashton’s head when he crawled into his bed.

 

Ashton had scared his baby away.

 

*

 

The next morning, the three boys agreed that Saturday mornings were a lot less fun without a sleepy boy threatening to drown in his cereal because he couldn’t stay awake. Said boy would rub his eyes adorably, complaining about everything and anything in a deep voice which messed them up like his usual I-just-climbed-out-of-bed hair that was so wild and fluffy it hid his ears completely.

 

Michael not being a morning person was enough to make his friends into morning persons.

 

Without him, however, they grew to understand what he meant with dark skies and cold air and a silence that made purs sound kind of out of place.

 

They ate their breakfast without saying a word to each other, the sound of their chewing and the clinking of their spoons the only thing that could be heard. Their meal was so boring it wasn’t even worth drowning in.

 

Until Luke’s half-closed eyes spotted a fluffy mess in the doorway and he couldn’t refrain himself from giggling. Because there stood Mister grey skies and hidden ears himself, shyly glancing at Luke.

 

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

 

Ashton and Calum visibly cheered up, their gazes searching for the cause of Luke’s sudden happiness. Much to their delight, Michael entered the kitchen, picking a chair and sitting down. He sat crisscross like he usually did without touching anything on the table.

 

“Morning,” he whispered. He didn’t look up from his sweater paws, which he’d united into one on his lap. A few stubborn strands of hair fell in his face, hiding his expression from his friends.

 

“Want me to make you breakfast?”

 

Calum offered, silently praying Michael’s hissy fit was over.

 

“No,” Michael responded, “no breakfast.”

 

Ashton huffed in annoyance, wondering if the boy was playing a game where he only said no. He thought they were beyond that stage after two years.

 

“Alright, why don’t you get dressed? We’re going to visit Niall, remember? You promised him you’d swing by.”

 

Luke suggested while placing his empty bowl in the sink. He reached out for his kitten, more than eager to help him change. But Michael didn’t move a muscle, he remained frozen in his seat. He didn’t even look up or brush the hair out of his drooping eyes.

 

“No, I don’t want to go outside.”

 

“Of course you don’t,” Ashton hissed. He was tired from working all week and in desperate need of a cuddle. In the end, Calum had cuddled with him on the couch the night before and Luke had let him stay in his bed but it hadn’t felt the same. He missed disgusting kitty licks and Michael’s hand pawing at his curls.

 

“You promised him, sweetheart,” Calum reminded him. The blond was extremely fond of the kitten and had been ecstatic when they promised to pay him weekly visits. Of course, Niall could come over to their flat as well, but nothing compared to a Michael covered from head to toe in coats and sweaters and scarfs so he wouldn’t get cold. Despite their efforts, Michael’s nose and cheeks would turn an adorable shade of pink that only faded when he nuzzled his cold nose into their neck.

 

“I don’t want to go,” Michael repeated, his fingers clenching into fists.

 

“C’mon love, just come upstairs with me. I’ll give you a warm sweater and a big coat,” Luke grabbed his arm, wanting to guide him to their bedroom. The kitten wouldn’t have any of it though.

 

“No, I said _no_ ” he hissed, vigorously tugging at his arm to try and free it from Luke’s tight grip.

 

“For god’s sake Michael what is wrong w-” Calum paused mid-sentence when he noticed the tears brimming in Michael’s eyes. His bottom lips was trembling, something that only happened when he was truly upset. Luke let go of him in shock and the boy sped out of the kitchen.

 

They visited Niall by themselves.

 

*

 

After a few hours, some beers, too many Friends episodes and constant whines about Michael’s absence, they threw the door of their flat open. It was eerily quiet, something Calum commented about while nervously clutching the chocolate chip cookie Niall had bought for Michael. The air felt cold and empty and it craved Michael’s giggles just as much as they did, or so Luke told himself.

 

“Kitten?”

 

He called out, receiving a muffled meow that came from his room. They let out a sigh, relieved that Michael wasn’t ignoring him entirely.

 

“Please go make him feel better,” Ashton whimpered and Calum handed him the cookie. Despite the cold outside, the heat of the boy’s hands had melted some of the chocolate chips. Not that Michael would mind though, a cookie was a cookie and it was even better if there was milk.

 

Luke slowly pushed the door open, curious as to what he would find. Was Michael curled up in his covers? Sprawled out on the floor?

 

None of his guesses turned out to be correct though, as he entered a room that was seemingly empty. He closed the door and sat down, resting his back against it. The wood felt hard and the moulding dug into his shoulder but he couldn’t quite get himself to make his way over to the bed.

 

“Please come out, Mikey,” he whispered. There was no need to raise his voice, Michael’s ears were able to pick up sounds from all over the flat. “I brought you a cookie. One of those chocolate chip ones that you love so much.”

 

His words were met by silence. The sound of his breathing and his constant nervous shuffling seemed awfully loud and he wished his friend would show himself already.

 

“We’re worried, sweetheart. We want you to be okay.”

 

“Please come out,” he repeated. After a few seconds, the door of his closet opened revealing a very crumpled looking Michael who slowly crawled out of it. Luke bit back a smile, unable to hide how fond he was of the silly kitten. How or why he had forced his limbs into a tiny wardrobe was an unnecessary question (it made him feel protected) and there was no point in getting mad because Luke would have to iron everything all over again (he thought it was cute).

 

“Come sit next to me.”

 

Michael obeyed, resting his head on Luke’s shoulder. He pawed at the cookie Luke had laid down in front of them, his widened eyes meeting Luke’s.

 

“Oh, you poor kitten, you must be hungry. You haven’t eaten all day,” the younger boy cooed. He handed Michael the cookie, the latter quietly nibbling on it. Though the silence was still there, the tension was slowly disappearing.

 

“Please, Mikey, tell me what’s wrong,” Luke pleaded, gently stroking the boy’s knee. It was the first time he touched him since he kissed his head the night before. Michael seemed hesitant, tensing up.

 

“I won’t be mad, I promise,” Luke reassured him, assuming he had done something wrong. Michael shifted, now resting his head on Luke’s lap and cuddle into his tummy. His chubby fingers prodded into Luke’s side unintentionally when he tried to pull him closer.

 

“I left the flat yesterday,” he murmured, his words muffled by Luke’s sweater. In every other situation, the blonde would have gotten distracted by the feeling of his lips moving against his stomach, but Michael was sad and that was more important than a tingly feeling. “I went to the park.”

 

“You silly boy, you know you can go wherever you want whenever you want.” Luke chuckled, but Michael shook his head. “That’s not it.”

 

“Some people saw my ears. They were mean people, Lukey.” The kitten looked up, his teary eyes meeting Luke’s. The green of his irises looked intensely bright when shimmering with unshed tears and Luke would have kissed them if he could but he would just have to wait for the ones that were bound to escape and run down his cheek, catching them with his lips before they could drip off his chin.

 

“D-did they hurt you?” He was almost too afraid to ask. He’d heard about that type of violence before, but he never thought they would target Michael. Most of the time while they were out, he would be stuck in a daydream like daze, bumping into everything unless one of the boys glued themselve to his side. A gasp escaped his lips when Michael nodded.

 

“Where?” The boy pointed to his chest, to his ears and then back to his chest, to a particular spot on the left. _His heart_. Luke felt like bawling, but he was afraid the salty tears would make the open wounds sting. So he held back his tears while gazing at the pained kitten who was trembling against his shoulder. Slowly, Luke reached out for the hem of Michael’s shirt, giving him plenty of time to move away. But when he didn’t, he lifted it up, exposing Michael’s pale skin.

 

Bruise after bruise got revealed while he moved his hand upward, until he reached an actual gash near his neck. The blood had dried by now, smeared across Michael's neck.

 

Michael's torso looked like something the kitten could have painted with splashes of vile blue and crusty red lines.

 

"Oh, Mikey," Luke whimpered even though he wasn't the one who got beaten up. He lifted his hands even higher, wanting Michael to take it off but his hands covered Luke's and pressed them down.

 

"Sweetheart, we need to get you cleaned up. I think it's too late for ice, but we should at least take a look at those cuts."

 

He shook his head, his hands letting go of Luke's and grabbing his arm instead. With a grip that nearly hurt he pleaded for Luke to forget about it.

 

"We have to tell the others, Michael." Luke's voice sounded soft and sad when he tried to change the stubborn kitten's mind. The latter nodded reluctantly and let go of Luke's arm, allowing the older boy to drag him to the living room.

 

"Look who's come out," Calum smiles warmly at Michael when they walked in and if it weren't for Luke's grip on him, he would've walked over to him and crawled on his lap.

 

"I miss you," he whispered instead, glancing shyly at him. Calum was about to reply when Luke spoke up, making Michael cringe.

 

"There's something our little kitten didn't tell us."

 

It's kind of stupid to call a teenage boy who's over 6 feet tall _little_ but when he's standing there, curled up in himself and partly hidden behind Luke's broad frame, it sort of just _fits_.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

Ashton asked and he shuffled a little closer to Calum so the pair would have room to sit too. Luke shook his head though and his hands sneaked to the hem of Michael's sweater.

 

"No!" Michael protested, making both Calum and Ashton raise their eyebrows. "Please tell me it's not self harm," the oldest whimpered, his eyes dark brown with concern.

 

"Tell them first," the kitten demanded, "then show them." He freed himself from Luke's grip and slowly wriggled himself in between the two other boys, trying not to wince when they touched his bruises. He vaguely registered Luke talking but he couldn't bring himself to focus because Calum was tracing his skin with his index finger and Ashton was letting him nuzzle his cold nose in his neck. All he heard was murmurs but the sound of Luke's hot chocolate timbre was enough to keep him calm, until the warmth surrounding him turned into cold and Calum's slender fingers started prying. Michael let out a shriek, but Ashton immediately pinned him down and pressed his lips against cheek.

 

"Calm down, kitty, we're only trying to take a look."

 

Ashton was probably right but this was _not_ warm and _not_ fluffy and all he wanted to do was cuddle with his friends so he kept wriggling and thrashing around. He cursed himself for having fluffy ears instead of something _useful_  like claws.

 

"Mikey, look at me.”

 

With two large hands cupping his face, he had no choice but to stare into those hazel eyes. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and Ashton moved his thumb to wipe them away.

 

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t cr-”

 

Before he could finished his sentence, Calum gasped and let go of Michael’s sweater in shock. Michael used this opportunity to escape and scrambled off of the couch and away from their grip.

 

“W-we n-need a, a doctor. Y-yes, Lukey, we need a doctor.”

 

Calum’s glassy eyes shifted from Michael to Luke and back to Michael, while he jumped off of the couch. He seemed to be mirroring the kitten’s panicked state, something which didn’t help solve the situation at all.

 

“No,” Michael protested, “no doctor.” He crawled even further, now hiding behind the coffee table. It was a silly thing to do, except it _wasn’t_  that silly at all because it was something he did when he felt scared and unsafe.

 

“How about we don’t call a doctor, but we call a friend instead, okay?” Ashton tried, successfully grabbing Michael’s attention. “One of Niall’s friends is a med student, remember?” The mention of Niall made his features soften, which gave Luke hope. He understood Michael’s aversion to strangers after getting attacked, but it was important that someone treated him.

 

“Harry?” Calum croaked from underneath Ashton. The older boy had wrapped his arms around him in an attempt to calm him down.

 

“Yeah, do you remember what Niall said about Harry, Mikey?”

 

Michael shook his head, his green eyes spread wide open. Luke took that as his cue to sit down on the floor and try to get a little closer.

 

“Harry apparently has a bit of a Starbucks addiction,” the blonde started. “And he has very long curls.”

 

“How long?” Michael whispered, as if it were a secret. Desperately trying to keep a straight face, Luke slowly crawled closer until he could reach him and tapped his shoulder while replying with: “ _this_ long.” Michael gasped almost comically and Calum nearly let a giggle escape his lips.

 

“What do you say, love? Shall we call him?” Ashton asked, his phone already in his hand. He didn’t have Harry’s number, but he was going to call Niall and pray that Harry was available tonight. Their kitten nodded, his interest clearly sparked. “Alright, I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

*

 

Barely twenty minutes later a ridiculously nice boy was sat on their floor and Michael was hidden behind the couch. Evidently, Niall had told him all about the cat-eared boy and his antics, because he was patiently waiting for him to come out with a fond smile on his face.

 

“Hey Michael,” he mused, his voice a few octaves too deep for anyone’s good. Of course, Michael didn't respond. He stayed hidden behind their furniture like he had been far too many times in the past two days.  

 

“Don’t you wanna see my hair?” There was a small pause. “No.” The squeak was so soft he wasn’t sure if he had heard it right.

 

“You can touch it if you want to.” Harry didn’t raise his voice, he stayed as patient as he had been for the past ten minutes. As soon as he had entered the room, Michael had fled, and even though Harry couldn’t wait to see the creature from up close he understood that the boy was just scared.

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

Everyone held their breath, waiting for a sign from Michael. Calum wanted to cry out in relief when his head poked above the couch. His ears were hidden in his hair, but he was opening up and that was enough. Besides, the look of happiness on Harry's face was priceless.

 

"Go ahead, come a little closer," he encouraged to frightened boy while twirling some strands around his fingers. Michael hesitantly crawled forwards on all fours, squinting in suspicion. Once he noticed Harry wasn't going to move, he made a run for the last metre and pawed at his curls. Harry let out a bubbly laugh, causing the kitten to take a step back.

 

"Look what happens if you pull them." The oldest boy straightened one of the strands, which bounced up and down once he let it go again. Michael slowly mirrored his action, his lips curving into a small smile when he discovered the bounciness of curls at first hand.

 

It only took another twenty minutes, a bun in Harry's hair and a cookie Niall had recommended he'd bring, for Harry to win his trust. He had to try his hardest to keep a straight face when Michael reluctantly took off his shirt, not wanting to scare the others. It disgusted him that anyone would want to hurt such a fluffy creature. After staying with the boys for over an hour, he had noticed that Michael wasn't suffering physically as much as he was mentally.

 

As soon as Harry had finished treating Michael's wounds (besides applying some cream to the bruises and bandaging the cuts there wasn't a lot he could do) he had insisted someone made some food because all Michael had eaten in over 24 hours was two cookies. For once, Ashton allowed everyone to eat on the couch. Despite his empty stomach, Michael didn't eat more than half a plate but upon noticing that Harry didn't comment on it the boys let it go. Though they weren't finished yet, Michael curled up on the couch.

 

He purred when Calum pet his hair, carefully avoiding his ears after Harry had explained that they were going to be sensitive for a while. His eyes fell shut as fast as he fell asleep, unconsciously seeking the warmth of someone's body (that somebody being Ashton).

 

And Luke couldn't care less about Michael hiding his wounds, his refusal to cuddle or the time they had spent trying to put him at ease. Why waste your time on thoughts as vile as the stain on Luke's _favourite_ pillow if there was a purring kitten on your couch?

 

This time, he could even see Michael's parted lips and the blush on his cheek while he let soft breaths. His ashen hair was sprawled all over Calum's lap, his ears on full display and Luke knew that he would never be able to get mad at Michael.

 

In the end, this was all just their kitten being a kitten.

 

 


End file.
